


Run for miles just to get a taste

by Agf



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Dave comes back to 2019, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sort of? Time fuckery man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26195080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agf/pseuds/Agf
Summary: Dave comes back to 2019, and Klaus has some memories best exorcised with new ones.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz
Comments: 11
Kudos: 74





	Run for miles just to get a taste

**Author's Note:**

> I finished the show, then this scene woke me up with a knife at my throat and wouldn't let me rest until I got it down. Enjoy!
> 
> Title from the song _Love on the Brain._

The moment everyone starts to splinter off into different directions - Vanya with Sissy and Harlan, Luther with Alison, Diego with… Diego - Klaus wraps a hand around Dave’s wrist and tugs him up the stairs to his room. 

“Hey, wait - you’re not going to give me the tour?” Dave asks, like there isn’t a tremble in his voice, like he isn’t still reeling from the jump here, from everything that he’d seen. 

Unfortunately for Dave, while he’s stuck learning Klaus for the first time, Klaus can read _him_. He recognises the set of his shoulders and the wide look in his eyes; he’s trying to be brave. He doesn’t have to be. 

“Shhh. Come here,” Klaus says. He hurries him through the bedroom door and pushes it closed behind them, then shoves a chair under the door handle just to be sure. 

“What are you doing?” Dave asks. He’s frowning, a little, but he lets Klaus push him down onto a seat regardless. 

Klaus tosses his hat somewhere behind him and flicks his hair out of his face, letting his eyes roam over Dave’s confused face. 

It’s him. It is. He’s here. 

He’s here.

Klaus steps closer and drops to his knees. 

“Klaus? What are you doing?”

Dave glances around the room like he’s looking for clues, but there’s nothing in here that tells him anything useful. The only useful clue is hanging around Klaus’ throat, where it always is. 

Dave’s slacks are soft under his fingers, warm from the heat of his body, and they still smell faintly like burning rubber and hay. “Klaus?” he prompts, quieter. 

Klaus lifts his head, and he knows his eyes are red-rimmed. “I just… I just need this. Is that okay, Dave? Will you let me?” he asks. He smooths his hands up higher, just to make sure it’s clear what he’s asking for. 

Dave’s breath stutters in his chest and his knee twitches under Klaus’ hand. “I’ve never- No one’s ever done that for me, before,” he says. 

Klaus smiles, nodding. “I know,” he says. “You like it. Cross my heart.” He drags a finger over his bare chest, nail catching just slightly on one silver dog tag. 

“I’m not sure I understand,” Dave admits after a moment. He reaches out hesitantly to wipe at Klaus’ cheek, and the soft gentleness of the touch almost undoes him. 

“I can’t-- I try to remember, what we had, before-”

“The other me, you mean.”

“There is no other you.” 

“Yes there is,” Dave argues easily. He doesn’t sound upset by it. “The me in Vietnam.” 

Klaus drops his head back a little and nods. “I can’t remember the good parts without the bad ones,” he says. He shakes his head and pastes on a smile. “Makes for some _very_ uncomfortable personal massages, if you catch my meaning.” 

Dave does him the favour of smiling at the joke, but his gaze cuts right through Klaus, pinning him in place. “And this will help?” he asks. 

Klaus nods. 

“Alright,” Dave says. “Okay.” Then, “Would you kiss me, first?”

Klaus could kick himself, but that would be wasting time he could spend on far more useful things - things like climbing into Dave’s lap and cradling his face - his real, perfect face - between his hands, tilting it back, and kissing him. 

It feels like their first kiss. Even tastes the same - the bite of salt, the edge of something metallic, like desperation. The fear that it’ll be cut short. 

Then Dave makes a sound, a moan Klaus has never heard before. Before, they’d had to be quiet. They don’t have to worry about that now. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, okay,” Klaus says, pressing a kiss to Dave’s cheek next, then his jaw, his eyelid, gradually circling back to his mouth again. He rocks down onto him when Dave fits his hands to the small of his back. 

For once, Klaus’ head feels quiet. 

They kiss until the air between them feels starved of oxygen. Until Klaus’ lips feel hot; and Dave’s hands have stopped shaking; and until, when Klaus rocks down against him, Dave makes a sound like he can’t stand the tease any longer. 

Klaus is anything but graceful as he climbs from Dave’s lap and sinks down between his knees again - but then he doesn’t have to be graceful. There’s time for that. They have time, later. 

“Still okay?” he asks, tugging at the button of Dave’s slacks until he can get the stupid thing undone. 

Dave laughs and catches Klaus’ hands in one of his own, kisses one palm - the _good bye_ \- and gets everything pushed down to his ankles on his own. “Still okay,” he promises against the hot skin of Klaus’ hand. 

For all his desperation, Klaus still has to take a minute just to _look_. Dave is beautiful, perfect, the slightest red flush peeking from between the busted-open bottom of his shirt - and Klaus knows that flush intimately. He could trace its path in the dark. 

His cock is perfect too; upright, curved slightly, beautiful. Klaus knows what it feels like in his hand, between his thighs, in his throat. 

He swallows. 

“I’m going to make you feel good,” Klaus promises, before he leans forwards and sinks his mouth down, down, down, until his nose is pressed against pink skin and Dave’s body is taught as a bowstring beneath him. 

“Oh! God, god, _Klaus_ ,” Dave hisses. He shifts his hips restlessly, and it’s only the fact that Klaus obliterated his gag reflex by the time he was eighteen that keeps him from choking. 

He pulls back, enough to look up at Dave’s face from under his eyelashes, and feels a hot curl of satisfaction in his gut when he finds him looking _wrecked_ by it _._ Dave’s hands are balled into fists on his thighs, his nails digging in, and Klaus lifts one and repositions it in his own hair meaningfully. 

“Oh- this doesn’t, it doesn’t hurt?” Dave asks, tangling his fingers around a handful of brown waves. 

“I like it,” Klaus replies. Already, his voice sounds different. God, he feels amazing. This feels right. It feels new, and familiar, and his head is _quiet_ and the world around them is quiet too. 

“Okay,” Dave breathes. He’s a good boy, polite, but even he has his limits. He gives Klaus’ head an experimental tug back in a distinctly dick-ward direction. Klaus grins and sticks out his tongue. 

“You like this,” he says confidently before twirling his tongue around the head, following Dave up when he bucks his hips again, a gutteral sound echoing in his chest. “This too.” This time when he sinks down he sticks his tongue out far enough to lap at Dave’s balls. The bite of pain in his scalp as Dave clenches his hand feels like victory. 

Klaus goes to pull back, but Dave holds him there, his body tense and trembling. “Wait,” he says, “Can you- for a moment?”

Klaus makes an affirmative noise. His head is swimming, his throat bulging. Another thick drop of saliva hits his bent knees. 

It’s bliss. 

All he can focus on is Dave. He’s all he can feel, see, hear, taste, smell. His world narrows down to the stretch of his lips and the warmth of Dave’s hand in his hair. Who needs air? Air is overrated when this is the alternative, he thinks. He would sit like this for hours if he could, his only purpose to make Dave feel good. 

When Dave eases him back, Klaus can feel a string of saliva hanging between his bottom lip and the head of Dave’s dick, and he leans forward against the hand in his hair to try and get him back in his mouth. 

“No, wait,” Dave says again. He’s probably the only person Klaus listens to those words from, so he falls still, breathing heavily. “I want to… finish like this,” Dave says. He blushes at the word ‘finish’, and Klaus wants to laugh and sob all at once. 

“Whatever you want,” he says. 

Dave doesn’t drop his hand from Klaus’ hair. He holds him in place as he moves his other hand over himself, jerking himself fast and frantic. And oh- he’s clever, he’s so _smart_ , because he’s giving Klaus the best view in the house. From here, he gets to see Dave’s face fall open and shocked as he comes. He gets to see him shudder and pant, the pink sweep of his tongue over his mouth. Klaus gets to hear the whine, and the obscenely slick sound of his hand. 

Dave even manages to get his chest and not his hair. 

_So polite_ , Klaus thinks again, a little dreamily. 

“Oh,” Dave pants once he’s done, slumped forwards and untangling his hand. He doesn’t move away though, just turns from grabbing to petting, easy as anything. And he was made for this, Klaus already knew that, but now maybe Dave can see it, too. “That was…”

“Amazing.”

“Yeah.” Dave grins. He’s still breathing hard, and his hair is mussed somehow, and he looks so perfect it could make Klaus fall all over again. 

Dave swipes up an abandoned jumper from the floor - Klaus thinks he catches sight of the Umbrella Academy logo - and uses it to wipe Klaus’ face clean. “I didn’t think that was where you hit the bullseye,” Klaus manages after a second, sounding croaky. 

“No, it wasn’t,” Dave agrees. He drops the sweater on the floor and reaches for Klaus’ chest with his bare hand, trailing his fingers through the mess and _up,_ up towards his neck, before he drops his hand back. “I thought you might like that, though,” he says. 

Klaus looks down at himself. Then he laughs. He laughs, and he can’t stop, and when he looks up at him Dave is grinning too, and he’s still pink and flushed and _real._

The dog tags on Klaus’ chest swing with his laughter, Dave’s name smeared with come. 

All white, no red. 


End file.
